Wrong Scent
by snapescelticgirl
Summary: POV from the leader of the Hounds. Was watching Season 3 over and wondered if the Hounds could sense something different between souls.


Disclaimer: I don't own. Am not making any money. Belongs to Kripke.

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They were bred to kill. Centuries of perfecting the viciousness and pure animal instinct to hunt had created them. As big as the largest wolf, speed unmatched in any reality, they were the ultimate killing machine. Their claws so long that when they sank into flesh there was no hope of escape. Teeth so razor sharp that when it passed thru their prey's meat, it was like a hot knife into butter. Even their creators couldn't suppress a shudder when the leader began to howl. When the others joined in the hunt it was like hell rising on Earth. That's why they had been created after all. As hunters and retrievers for the souls of the damned.

And they enjoyed their work. They were after all doing what they loved. The thrill of a hunt was only matched by the exhilaration of the catch. Each soul they chased down was a treat from their Master. Sometimes in took days to chase down their prey but that only increased their excitement. It became a game after a while. The leader would show up once maybe twice just barking and howling at the door. Then a day would go by. Let the damned believe in redemption for another day after that. Then the pack would return, more intent than before. Howling, snarling, scratching. The smell of fear was almost tangible in the air. After that the chase would really begin.

Some would use magic, charms, salt. Anything and everything to postpone the inevitable. But none succeeded. Until the man who had help from the brothers. From the beginning the leader could tell his soul smelled different. Most souls smelled of greed, lust, envy even evil. But his soul lacked those scents. It was by no means a foul smell like that of love or compassion nor was it the pleasant smell of damnation. It was somewhere in between. The leader wondered if the soul would taste as good as the others of the past. But he would never get to taste because one of the Master's dealers changed the deal. She had been punished, greatly.

Then came the soul of the woman. At first her soul had been tarnished by what had been done to her. Even with the evil intent, her soul had been different at the time of her deal. Smelled more like the man's. Almost as if the evil was not as pure as the others. But by the time the pack had chased her down a decade later, her smell was ripe with greed and selfishness. The leader forgot that she had ever been different at all.

The next hunt was the most exciting that the pack had ever done. The man, his brother and the other had lead them on a chase. They were worthy prey. The leader could have let it carry on for days just for the thrill it gave them all. But Master would not be pleased. It had taken so long to corner him as it was. That's when the leader again noticed the distinct smell. He could recognize it better now. It was what human's called self sacrifice. It was acrid to his nose and he felt the others recoil slightly as well. But Master ordered them on.

With the first swipe of his claws, he knew that this soul was not supposed to be his prey. The sting of the man's blood on his snout was harsh. The others knew it as well. He dropped his jaws to the man's neck and quickly tasted his blood with a swipe of his tongue. He snorted and coughed at the flavor. The others could tell something was wrong. This was not a soul that should be going to Hell. The man had done much good in his life. His deal was not of greed. Perhaps it was colored slightly by selfishness but it was not evil. Not meant for the pack.

He risked a glance at Master. She was staring intently at the pack and he knew that if he were to disobey it would be death for him and his children. They were not bred to think. They were bred to destroy. And he knew that in Hell, death could take a long time.

So he growled at the others, demanding they finish the hunt. He ignored the man's cries. He thought about recent hunts and the sweetness of their souls. Anything to forget what was happening now. He knew that in time he would forget the smell. That it would be a distant memory. He just hoped he never had to devour a soul like this one again.

Minutes later it was done. Master was pleased and disappeared with the others. The pack left with her. But the leader stayed for a moment. He saw the man's brother embrace his dead body. Saw the tears. Already he could hear the soul being tortured. He dropped his head and walked back into his own domain not so eagerly anticipating the next hunt.


End file.
